Skaia Center for Mental Rehabilitation
by Liar Liar Liar
Summary: Centered on the Skaia Center for Mental Rehabilitation. The trolls are the patients and the kids are the staff. The story focuses mainly on Sollux and Karkat. This IS a humanstuck.
1. Chapter 1

The car feels like it is traveling at a supersonic speed. Blood rushes through your ears and you close your eyes to try to block it out, to lose all sensation. The voices were becoming too much for you, especially with the mood swings and migraines.

Parents realized this. It wasn't like they didn't care or didn't love you, because they did. You loved them, but your mental state was something you preferred not to talk about, especially with your parents. You didn't want them to see how truly delicate and pathetic you were.

The car rounds a corner, and you take off your glasses to press your fingers into your eyes. Mom looks back at you from the rearview mirror as Dad drives with a pained expression on his face. You know that this was not what any of you wanted, but you all know just as deeply that it is for the best.

Headaches, migraines, noise in your head have all been getting steadily worse. You had stopped going to school the week before it ended. You were medically exempt from finals as you lay on your back in bed popping aspirin and blasting music through your earbuds in a desperate effort to calm the noise. Shades down, room dark, you stayed there, only emerging for the weekly psychiatrist appointment and bathroom visits. Mom tried to get you to eat in the kitchen. She tried to get you to shower more than once a week. It was a valiant, yet hopeless effort.

The last appointment with the psychiatrist was somewhere in the second week of July. Dad forced you to get out of bed, shower, put some real clothes on, eat something decent. You ended up on your knees in front of the toilet, coughing and sputtering vomit into the bowl. Due to this unforseen complication, you were late for the appointment.

Parents never used to go in Psychiatrist's office with you, but recently they had been sitting in. You didn't speak much. You sat there tonguing your braces that hadn't been tightened in months, eyes clenched shut to block out the noise. Mostly the present parent talked, while Psychiatrist "mhmm"ed and noted things and asked questions.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard the phrase "rehabilitation clinic". They were considering sending you to a loony bin? No, no thanks, nope. You were doing just fine here. In your gut, though, you knew your dad was right to agree and inquire about local mental hospitals. You agreed, even though you didn't actually have any say in the matter as a sixteen-year-old.

The car finally pulls into a small lot in front of a white building, labelled "SKAIA CENTER FOR MENTAL REHABILITATION". You pull up your hood and grab your drawstring bag, a sort of carry-on for today. Mom and Dad go to get the luggage in the trunk, a suitcase and a backpack. A nurse greets you, but you just stare at the ground, not catching any details of her save the shrill tone and bubbliness of her voice.

"Sollux Captor?"

You nod, clenching your hands into fists inside the kangaroo pocket of your sweatshirt. Nails dig into your palms, begging for relief. Nurse leads you inside, where you and your parents check you in at a desk, like some hotel for the insane. Upstairs, teen wing, here's your room. Deposit belongings on a white, sterile bed, sit down. Mom puts clothes in the spartan wooden wardrobe. Dad hugs you in a rare moment of blatant affection.

"I love you."

You try to nod but merely grunt in what you hope is an affectionate manner. Mom does the same thing, only hugging tighter and longer. They leave reluctantly, and Nurse explains things to you. You wonder if she knows how little attention you're capable of, and why she would bother talking to you at all.

"Your roommate," you don't catch his name, "... group therapy... meet him later... doctor every few days... activities and... meals are served at..."

She blabbers on and on. "Oh, and I'm Nurse Harley, but you can call me Nurse Jade if you want."

You lift your head, glasses askew over squinting eyes, and stare at her with what you hope conveys that you probably won't be calling her anything at all.

"Okay, well, you can just rest for a bit, and Karkat will be back soon."

You sink back onto the hard mattress as she leaves the room, and pull the pillow over your eyes, trying to block it all out. Somehow, miraculously, you sleep for the first time in days.

"WHO IS THIS IDIOT IN MY BED?" you bellow.

New roommate thinks he can just waltz in here and take a nap in YOUR bed? Harley comes over and tries to calm you.

"Karkat, did you take your meds today? You cannot bully the morning nurse like that, she's new."

"I'm not taking any bullshit meds for a problem that I DON'T HAVE!" you scream.

"Well, you wouldn't be here if there wasn't a problem. Now stop screaming. Sollux is trying to sleep. You need to show more respect for others."

"Why the fuck should I show any respect for this sorry excuse for a human being? Here he is, passed out like a stupid bony piece of shit, IN MY BED. Tell me there is something to respect there, because I can't seem to locate it."

"Karkat, calm down. I have to go see other patients. Stop making such a fuss or you'll be disciplined."

She strides out of the room and you huff an enormous, somewhat dramatic sigh. Sollux opens his eyes, squinting behind oval-shaped lenses.

"Hey JERKOFF. WAKE UP," you spit.

He pulls himself up wearily and staggers to the other bed.

"So what's wrong with you?" you ask, crossing your arms.

"I uh..." He's clearly in a lot of pain. "I, um, bipolar and the uh..." He stops again, pressing his fingers to his temples. "I have uh, voiceth and migraineth, like, in my head."

"Huh, well, I hope you're interesting. My last roommate was a crybaby fuckface who was as sensitive as a goddamn twelve-year-old girl. And nice lisp, asshole." You sit down at the single desk in the room as he gives you a pathetic attempt at a glare.

"So what do these voices say? You some schizo?"

"I uh, thtopped lithening. Nothing interethting, just shit about people dying."

"How cliché," you say. "What the fuck is wrong with you then?"

"They're still, uh, working on the diagnothith. Formally, um, only bipolar dithord-" He stops short and shoves a pillow over his head. You wonder how he can talk through all this alleged pain.

"Jegus fucking christ. You sound like Tavros with all those fucking insecure "um"s and "uh"s.

He peeks out from under the pillow. "Who'th Tavroth?"

Chritht, that lisp is going to get annoying.

"He's this depressed crippled kid. You'll meet him later."

"You're jutht..." he grits his metal-covered teeth. "A ball of thunshine..."

You laugh dryly. "Welcome to Skaia."

You mostly stay in your room over the next couple of days, incapacitated and adjusting to new medications. You still don't know what Karkat is in here for. You asked once, but he just laughed and asked, "What do you think, shitrag?"

You notice that Karkat always wears long sleeves, and wondered if it was an anxiety thing. You're almost afraid to ask after the way he has reacted to any question you've asked (profanity, glaring, et cetera). You don't worry about it too much. After all, he's under supervision here, so he's probably fine.

You adjust to Skaia relatively quickly. The other kids, while a lot of them are quiet, seem okay. You meet Tavros first. He doesn't seem to be as much of a loser as Karkat made him out to be, though he has an air about him like a kicked puppy. You talk to him a little, but he seems shy.

You meet Vriska second. She is a wild animal (and probably sociopath) with long, tangled blue-black hair, fiercely blue eyes behind big glasses, and a smile that could scare any small child. She oozes next to you at group therapy on your second day, and proceeds to flirt with you. You merely stare at her through your drug-induced haze, eyes half shut. She sees that she isn't getting anywhee with you and pouts. Unfazed, you just keep trying desperately not to fall asleep.

Nepeta is perhaps one of the strangest people you've ever met. She pounces on you at lunch. She literally pounces, hands curled like claws, legs springing into a jump. She lands on the back of your chair, which makes you wobble, get ketchup on your shirt, and knocks your glasses askew. When you have collected yourself, she grins and introduces herself.

"Hi! I'm Nepeta! Who are you, new kitty?"

"Th-tholluckth," you stammer.

"I'm purrfectly pleased to meet you, Sollux!" she exclaims, putting emphasis on the "purr" in perfect.

She sits down across from you, brushing a dark curl out of her vivid green eyes. She wears a bright blue hat with a cat face and ears on it, and for the first time, you really doubt the sanity of a Skaia peer. You see her grab a carton of milk, pour it onto her tray, and lap it up. You raise an eyebrow, perplexed. Nepeta just bares her teeth in a smile and licks the rest of the milk off her face.

Eridan is the resident snob and hipster. He doesn't speak to you, merely wrinkling his nose and tossing his rather pretentious scarf as he passes you. _It's summer_, you think. _Why is he wearing a scarf?_ You ask Karkat about him, but the shorter boy just groans and shakes his head.

"Don't even _ask_."

You meet several others within the next few days. Feferi, the hyperactive girl somehow attracts you. Equius, the muscular freak, terrifies you. Terezi, the psychotic blind synesthete, somewhat repulses you as she chases you, tongue and clawed hands outstretched. Kanaya, the calm and seemingly normal one, is a breath of fresh air as you have a sane conversation one morning. Aradia, the nearly catatonic one, intrigues you. You feel your heart break as you catch her empty brown eyes, looking but not seeing.

You finally find out what Karkat's been hiding one night when you're both getting changed into pajamas. He lifts up his shirt, and you don't mean to look, honestly, you're not gay, but you catch a glimpse of something that frightens you. His torso and arms are covered in scars and healing gashes. He notices you gaping and shoots you a scowl.

"Quit staring at me, fucking nosy ass."

"Kk," you begin, using your nickname for him (which he hates), "are you... did you?"

"It's not a big deal, Jegus. I'm here for a reason and so are you. Mine's just more visible, okay, fuckbag?"

Karkat finishes dressing and gets into bed.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Tholluckth. I'm under constant supervision and on fuckton dosages of meds."

"Sure, kk. If you thay tho."

Yet as you lean back onto the mattress, concern grows in you, poking its roots through your queasy stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

You have your first appointment with your new psychiatrist on the fourth day. As Nurse Harley leads you to the office, you wonder what exactly he's going to want out of you. How similar will he be to the last psychiatrist?

"Here's Dr. Lalonde's office. Good luck!"

You enter the office tentatively. A slim blond woman sits at a dark wood desk. The slightest of smiles crosses her lavender lips. You correct your earlier pronoun choice. How similar will _she_ be to your last psychiatrist?

"Good morning, Mr. Captor."

Her voice is smooth and rich, with a soothing element. Somehow, though, part of her strikes you as ominous. You sit down in an armchair.

"Let's begin with getting to know each other a bit better, shall we?" she inquires.

"Uh, okay," you say nervously.

"Good." She smiles again. "I'm Dr. Rose Lalonde, and I am a liscensed psychiatrist. I enjoy knitting, writing, and I have always had an interest in grimdark lore. And you, Sollux?"

"Well, um, you know my name..." You run your tongue across your braces. "What'th 'grimdark'?"

"Grimdark lore involves creatures of mysterious and dark origins. Quite fascinating, the legends of F'thulu."

You don't know what to say to this. Dr. Lalonde seems really weird.

"Okay. I'm Tholluckth Captor. I have chronic migraineth and bipolar dithorder, and uh..." You pause. You hate this part; it always sounds so cliché.

"I have voitheth in my head."

To your surprise, Dr. Lalonde doesn't blink an eye. "Yes, I am aware. But what are your interests and hobbies? What occupies your spare time?"

"Oh," you say simply. "Uh, well, mothtly lying in bed with the shadeth down."

"You seem rather insistent to talk about your mental health. What did you do before your mental health issues began interfering with your daily life?"

"I programmed computerth." You feel a pang in your chest. You really miss that.

"Oh? What sort of programs?" Dr. Lalonde raises an eyebrow, almost comically.

"Well, I wrote a lot of virutheth. I chatted online thome. I helped people fickth thtuff."

"Interesting," she says. "So when did your mental state begin interfering with your daily life?"

You think back. "Like, June?"

"Now, how did this affect your schoolwork?"

"I wath medically exthempt from the retht of the term. But it kinda went to crap before that." Why are you opening up so much to this woman?

"I see. When were you diagnosed with bipolar disorder?" she types something in on a laptop.

"Don't you already have my mental hithtory?" you ask.

"Yes, but I prefer to hear it from you."

"Fine. I wath thickth."

"Do you feel that this diagnosis suits you?" She lifts her head from typing and stares you directly in the eyes with big eyes that match her pale magenta lips.

You think. "Unfortunately, yeth."

"So you've been to a psychiatrist before, I understand?"

She is curt and formal, her posture flawless. You feel a bit sloppy next to her in your roomy t-shirt and jeans. You scuff your mismatched sneakers against the linoleum. You've always had a thing for twos, particularly since being diagnosed as having two poles of mood.

"Yeah, I had my latht appointment with him a couple of weekth ago."

"Have you been in therapy before? I feel that I must note, though I have a doctorate, I am primarily a therapist here. I do still prescribe medication, however."

"Uh, not really. Too much money for both."

"I see. That's unfortunate. I have seen therapy really help people with a similar diagnosis to yours."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. You really hate talking about your mental problems, but obviously you're going to have to with Dr. Lalonde.

"Do we uh, have to talk about thith?" you ask.

"Not at all. In fact, as I said, you seem rather insistent to talk about your mental health."

You sigh.

"We don't have to talk at all, if you prefer. Talking will further your progress, yes, but it is not in any way necessary."

After an exhausting appointment, you head to lunch. Karkat is sitting alone as usual, and you pull a seat up to his table, as usual. Karkat turns his head and glares at you.

"Hey, assbag, did you notice how there were no open seats here? Did you not even stop to consider that maybe that was _on purpose_?"

You chuckle. Kk somehow always cheers you up, even with the yelling mixed with growling way he talks. Your laughter just agitates him more, but his agitation causes you to laugh more.

Kanaya then pulls over a chair. "Mind if I sit here, Karkat, Sollux?" she asks in her clipped, precise manner.

Karkat, munching his sandwich, shakes his head without looking up. Kanaya sets her tray down and sits. For some reason, Karkat doesn't seem to mind her.

"So, Sollux," she says, turning to you. "How is Skaia for you so far? Are you finding it to be a good fit?"

You nod. "Yeah, it'th okay. The people here are really interethting."

Kanaya laughed, a short, breathy titter. "Yes, we certainly are."

Karkat finished his lunch and strode away, leaving his chair askew. You watched him go, and then looked at Kanaya. She seemed unconcerned, hands clasped in her lap.

"Ith he alwayth like thith?" you ask her.

"Usually, yes. He's not really a 'people person,' so to speak. I think he has trouble with them."

You sip your soda. "Uh, thorry if thith ith rude, but why are you here? You theem pretty chill."

"Oh, um..." Kanaya's clasped hands tighten.

"Thorry, you don't have to tell me," you apologize.

"No, it's okay," she says, breathing deeply. "I have anxiety about mundane things. I uh," Kanaya pauses, taking a deep breath. "I locked myself in my room after being rejected, and after an awful panic attack I... cut my hair."

You look at her dark cropped hair. You had always assumed that Kanaya's hair was like that as a chic fashion statement.

"I had beautiful wavy hair," sighs Kanaya. "It was long and perfectly sleek. Fortunately, my mother was able to fix my hair into this, but I still feel like I've lost a part of my identity." Her thin lips have bent into a frown.

"Thorry, Kn, that really thuckth," you murmur uncomfortably. You don't know what to say to this hysterical dame.

You don't have to know, because a wave of calm washes over Kanaya.

"Well, anyhow, it's all in the past now," she says with a smile. "Now it is my turn. What are_ you_ here for?"

"Bipolar dithorder," you say without missing a beat. "And voitheth in my head. Nothing too exthiting."

"On the contrary," says Kanaya. "One could argue that voices in your head are fascinating."

"Um, well, the thtuff they put me on blockth it out a little. They jutht talk about death a lot. It'th kind of deprething."

"Huh," says Kanaya. "Have you always had these voices?"

"Yeah," you say. "Ath long ath I can remember. It'th like the lithp. It'th a part of me, I gueth."

"Would you be sad to lose those things?" she asks, running a slim hand through her hair."

"No," you say, completely sure. "They thuck."

Your appointment with Dr. Lalonde is right after lunch. You storm in and slump in the armchair like you always do. You clutch at your sleeves out of habit, even though she already knows what they hide.

"Good afternoon, Karkat," she says. You grunt in reply.

"How is your new roommate? I met with him this morning, you know."

"He's kind of a dumpass," you sigh.

"Why is that?" she asks, folding her hands on her desk.

"I don't know, he has these bullshit voices in his head."

"Yes, he does."

"I dunno," you mutter. "Newbies are idiots."

"Karkat, don't forget how you came in here."

How could you? The memory burns in your mind. Slashing the razor through your veins, the pain, shit, the pain, and so much fucking blood... you passed out. You woke up in the hospital with your wrists wrapped up tight and a horde of doctors around your bed. They questioned you, forgetting the meanings of "personal" and "private".

The suicide watch that followed was agonizing. No one believed that you wouldn't do it again. The disappointed look in your dad's eyes, along with all that hurt pained you more than anything.

You came to Skaia with heavily bandaged wrists hidden under your sleeves. You started seeing Dr. Lalonde and were put on antidepressants. Things got so much better. You can finally breathe again without worrying that you will have to hurt yourself. It isn't perfect yet, but as Dr. Lalonde says, you're making progress.

"I was a mess," you finally say.

It's taken you four months to get to where you are now. You're a lucky one. Some of the other patients have been here far longer. Like Gamzee.

"Don't forget that he's just beginning recovery. Show some empathy, Karkat."


	3. Chapter 3

==================================  
>You wake up to shrieking. You roll over to glance at Karkat. He has pulled his blanket farther over his head and is vibrating with irritation. You get up and put on a t-shirt and socks, and go to investigate the noise.<br>Down the hall, laying on the floor, is some kind of clown with gaudy purple hair, emitting piercing screams. Weirdly enough, it sounds as if he's screaming "honk". Nurse Harley is grabbing at him as he suddenly pops up and takes off in a sprint.  
>"Gamzee!" she hisses. "It's 6 a.m., honey!"<br>Other patients are peering out from their rooms. Nepeta is wrapped in a robe with her curls a tangled mess. Kanaya, her roommate, energes in a kimono. Equius bats at his face with a towel, and Eridan has a sleep mask that he is pulling off of his eyes.  
>Karkat remains in bed. You turn to Feferi, your next door neighbor. She is, as always, full of energy.<br>"Who _ith_ thith guy?" you ask sleepily.  
>"Ooh, Sol, that's Gamzee. He's like, the craziest one here! He was kind of..." She drops her voice. "<em>locked up <em>for a while. He like, flipped out and attacked Tavros. He tried to go for Nepeta, but Equius? He's like, super protective of her and he pinned him down. It was like, so scary! Glub!" she hiccups after the last part, having spewed quite a stream of words.  
>You nod, taking in what Feferi had said. Then something hits you.<br>"Wait, so is that why Tavros..."  
>Feferi looks shocked. "Oh, glub! No, he was paralyzed before he came here. The attack like, <em>really<em> got him down, though!"  
>"I can imagine."<br>Tavros isn't out of his room yet. _Probably traumatized or something,_ you think.  
>Finally, Nurse Harley grabs hold of the wriggling boy, and leads him back down the hallway to what you've come to understand is pretty much solitary confinement.<br>"Tho what'th hith deal?" you ask, internaly wincing at your obvious lisp.  
>"I think he's schizophrenic? Or has, like, multiple personalities? I don't know! He got 'put away' on my second day here."<br>You nod and walk back into your room, where Karkat has his blanket wrapped around himself and is sitting up on his bed. He looks upset.  
>"Kk, what'th wrong?"<br>"Nothing's wrong, buttlicker," he snarls.  
>Clearly, though, something is, especially judging by that weak insult.<br>"Theriouthly, Kk. I don't know what kind of life you've had, and what kind of people were in it, but I care."  
>As you say the words, you wonder why you're being like this. In the week you've been at Skaia, you haven't really developed any personal bond with Karkat.<br>Karkat looks shocked. "He just... used to be my friend. He just flipped the fuck out one day." Karkat pulls his blanket tighter around himself. "It's hard to be friends with someone one day and see them at their worst the next."  
>You nod. You don't really have the experience, but you can imagine.<br>"I just forget that the people here are crazy sometimes," you hear him murmur.

Later that day, everything is back to normal. Tavros finally rolls out of his room looking nervous, and Karkat gets out of bed. You have group therapy, which you're not really looking forward to, since it gets kind of weird with the patients at Skaia.  
>The group therapy guy's name is John, and he is the dorkiest person you've ever seen, which is quite a statement coming from Sollux Captor. John is overly smiley, an has big, rectangular glasses. He wears t-shirts that reference movies, and next to him, next to all of these people, you feel normal.<br>You all gather a bunch of chairs in a circle. The odd number of you, especially being eleven, makes partnering up difficult. Someone usually partners up with John. Today, Karkat is that lucky someone. His scowl seems to deepen a bit.  
>You are partnered with Aradia. You had kind of been hoping that Feferi would be your partner, since she's kind of cute, but she is partnered with Eridan. Kanaya is partnered with Vriska, Tavros with Terezi, and Nepeta with Equius. Today, explains John, you are all going to do a roleplaying exercise.<br>"I love roleplaying!" shouts Nepeta. "I used to roleplay all the time befur Skaia! I used the username arsenicCatnip, and I was a kitty with two mouths! It was so much fun!"  
>"Shut up, Nepeta," growls Karkat. "You are annoying as shit! No one wants to hear about your roleplaying fuckery."<br>"Karkat, apologize to Nepeta," says John, frowning.  
>"I'm sorry, Nepeta," mutters Karkat.<br>"Anyway," continues John. "That's not the type of roleplaying we'll be doing! We're going to act out a scenario with our partners, then afterwards we'll talk about it. Everyone understand?"  
>Everyone did. You turned to Aradia, wondering how she'll be as a partner, considering her emotionless state.<br>"Hi, Sollux," she says flatly.  
>"Hey, Aa."<br>You give nicknames to everyone, a habit of yours.  
>John assigns your scenario and you and Aradia stare blankly at each other. You move to a corner of the room to discuss the scenario further.<br>"What are you in for," says Aradia. It was probably meant to be a question, perhaps even a humorous one, but her voice lacks the inflection to indicate this.  
>"I thtopped being able to function, I gueth," you find yourself answering. "I got deprethive mood thwingth a lot, and awful migraineth. The voitheth in my head got louder, too." Aradia remains expressionless. "Shit, you probably think I'm crathy."<br>"Not at all."  
>You raise your eyebrows. You suppose she has You topped for crazy.<br>"I have voices in my head, too," she says.  
>"Oh, really?"<br>"Yes. They warn me of my demise. I have never listened much, but I should have."  
>"Why?" you ask, suddenly curious.<br>"Because," says Aradia evenly. "If I did, I would not have died."  
>==================================<p> 


End file.
